Ain't No Sunshine, just a Bad Moon Rising
by InsertPotterThemedUsernameHere
Summary: Tony gets some news from St. Louis. From there, it's just a 'bad moon on the rise'. Fifth in "Supernatural Husbands" series. Tony/Dean; post Iron Man and Supernatural Seasons 1-4; Slash, angst, alcohol abuse, war, separation, mysterious Coulson, sad Christmas song, implied character death (because Dean W.)
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Ain't No Sunshine, just a Bad Moon Rising

 **Series:** Supernatural Husbands

 **Summary:** Tony gets some news from St. Louis. From there, it's just a 'bad moon on the rise'.

 **Timeline:** 2005-2008

 **Warnings:** Slash, angst, alcohol abuse, war, separation, mysterious Coulson, sad Christmas song, implied character death (because Dean W.)

 **Pairing:** Dean Winchester/Tony Stark

 **Author's Note:** Here it is, the fifth installment of the "Supernatural Husbands" series, which will follow our boys through Avengers. There will be angst and tears that will not let up until the sixth installment, so you are warned now. If you want to wait it out until then, feel free.

We are officially in post-Iron Man and Supernatural Season 1-4 universes. I've been a bit lazy, in that when I updated Ao3, I never did on fanfic dot net. So, I've finally got to it - so sorry my lovelies.

Also, because this is a series and fanfic dot net does not have an easy way to currently link them, I would suggest creating an author alert for when you want to to know of updates to the series.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything that is recognized.

* * *

 **Chapter 1** , "Ain't No Sunshine"

 _Ain't no sunshine when she's gone_

 _Only darkness every day_

 _Ain't no sunshine when she's gone_

 _And this house just ain't no home_

 _Anytime she goes away_

 **"** **Ain't No Sunshine," Bill Withers**

* * *

"Sir, I have an update about Dean."

Tony, who had been working on the repulsors of the Mark III, froze, nearly dropping the gauntlet when his hands became slack.

 _Dean_.

Although he had initially had JARVIS hide information about Dean from him, that didn't stop Tony's resolve from weakening from time to time and asking about how his Sunshine was doing. Worry constantly simmered within him, and Tony couldn't shake the feeling of dread he had that something terrible was going to happen. In the end, Dean was always fine – injured and/or suspected of psychopathic criminal acts – but fine.

But never, in all those months, had JARVIS volunteered information on Dean.

Slowly, with his heart in his throat, Tony put the armor down.

"Hit me, J," Tony said, ready to face whatever came.

Or so he thought.

"Dean Winchester has been linked to several murders in St. Louis," JARVIS said, and Tony's heart sank.

"And?" he asked, feeling the hesitation in the AI's message.

"He was found shot dead," JARVIS said, as mournfully as the computer could muster. "The police believe one of his near victim's made the shot."

This... can't be happening.

"Are – are you sure, J?" Tony asked, voice wavering, leaning on the worktable for support.

"Yes, Sir," the AI replied. "They've already checked dental records and fingerprints, which are a perfect match. I'm... sorry, Sir."

No! No! No! No! No!

With a surge of anger, Tony swept as much off his worktable that he could reach. He then picked up anything he could and began throwing them around the lab. His rage flowed through every vein in his body, and Tony blindly destroyed whatever came into his path.

Dean was dead. Dead! Dead! Dead! Tony fucking knew something like this would happen. Dean probably knew too, which was why the fucker didn't contact Tony once it was public that he had come back from Afghanistan. But he still had to fucking go look for that motherfucker father of his John Winchester. Fuck John Winchester! Fuck 'em all for making room in his heart for them only to have them leave. To have them die. Fuck 'em all!

This went on until much of the lab was broken glass and bent metal.

Slowly Tony slid to the floor, unable to hold himself up anymore and began to sob into his knees.

"Whir Beep Whir Whir. Beep Whir. Whir Beep. Beep Whir."

Tony looked up through blurry eyes to see DUM-E standing next to him, attempting to put his arm around Tony.

"Whir Beep Whir Whir. Beep Whir. Whir Beep. Beep Whir."

Tony leant into his child's embrace, and continued to pour his heart and grief out through tears. Why did this have to happen? Why can't anything work out for Tony? Yes, they were separated, but Tony always held out hope that one day their paths would come together again, and Tony would again make Dean his. Why did Dean, sweet, loving, unselfish Dean have to die, and so young? He was only 26. They were supposed to spend their lives together until they were old, grey, and balls drooping to their knees.

God damn everything!

Tony cried and cried until he had nothing left in him.

Eventually he began to breathe evenly again, tears drying on his face.

The man sat up and patted DUM-E.

"Thank you DUM-E," Tony said sincerely. If there was one thing Dean had taught him, it was that the bot should be praised when it was due. "You helped me very much. Dean would – would be happy that you've taken care of me."

DUM-E beeped and whirred in with subdued excitement from the compliment. Out of all the bots, his eldest had taken it the hardest when Dean left. If Tony was DUM-E's daddy then Dean was his mom, and no amount of Tony and JARVIS explaining could get DUM-E to understand why 'mommy' left. Not that Tony blamed him. He still didn't understand a lot of things his parents did and he was fully functional adult. Well, an adult, at least.

Eventually, Tony pushed himself off the ground, wincing at the painful realization that his tantrum had caused some damage to his hands. He'd get some rubbing alcohol to clean the wounds, and then some _real_ alcohol to numb the invisible ones.

"JARVIS, put aside any and all files on Dean Winchester, his family, the supernatural – all the plans we drew up– all previous security videos from the time I met him until now – anything that has any trace of him – put into a file called Sunshine," Tony ordered. "Put that file into the deepest part of the server, encrypt the shit out of it. It is never to be accessed by anyone except upon Dean Winchester's command."

"Sir, I do not follow," the AI admitted, not understanding his creator's logic. "Dean is –"

"Dead, I know," Tony interrupted, wrapping his arms around his waist. "I – I can't delete him. I just can't. But – but I also can't have it all within reach. It's the only way J."

"If you are sure, Sir," JARVIS responded, sounding as disappointed as an AI could.

"Do it, J," Tony ordered. "Inform Pepper of Dean's – Dean's death. And the steps we've taken. She can still run Westchester Security, but I want to hear none of it. Nothing about Dean ever again. Same with you J. You are not to mention Dean Winchester, or anything that concerns him, to me again. Do you understand? Nothing, nada. Capisce?"

"Understood, Sir," JARVIS replied.

Tony then made to leave the workshop to find some hard liquor and a bed to wallow in, when JARVIS spoke again.

"Sir, the results of your blood-work are complete. Would you like for me to reveal the results?"

Tony froze. Shit, he had forgot all about that.

In the time since he had miniaturized the arc reactor, Tony had begun to hypothesize that palladium would no longer be a suitable power source. He was starting to show adverse symptoms and having to replace the palladium strips with increasing frequency.

"Go ahead," Tony ordered, hand rubbing his chest in attempt to alleviate his pain. His chronic chest ache was now compounded by heartache.

"Your theory was confirmed, Sir," JARVIS reported. "You are suffering from palladium poisoning."

* * *

 _Hope you got your things together._

 _Hope you are quite prepared to die._

 _Looks like we're in for nasty weather._

 _One eye is taken for an eye._

 _Well don't go around tonight,_

 _Well it's bound to take your life,_

 _There's a bad moon on the rise._

 **"** **Bad Moon Rising," Creedence Clearwater Revival**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2** , "Le Moribond"

Adieu Curé je vais mourir

C'est dur de mourir au printemps tu sais

Mais je pars aux fleurs la paix dans l'ame

Car vu que tu étais son confident

Je sais que tu prendras soin de ma femme

 **"Le Moribond," Jacques Brel***

* * *

Dean sat in the Impala, staring off into space. Sam was currently in the McDonalds attached to the gas station, waiting behind what seemed to be a dozen other people. It's no wonder they're popular; they were the only fast food within an hour's driving distance. That was one reason why Sam agreed to eat Mickey D's: a greasy stomach is better than an empty stomach. Also the fact that Dean countered his brother's argument about how the junk only leads to clogged arteries with the reminder that well, lucky for Dean, he'll be dragged to Hell long before that.

If Sam slammed the car door a little harder than he needed to, Dean ignored it.

While Dean waited, he tried not to let his mind wander too much. Lately, wandering lead to what ifs. What if his mom hadn't died? What if his dad hadn't made a deal to save him? What if he had chose to wait in Malibu, instead of running off –

No. Thoughts of Tony were off limits.

Instead, Dean looked around the area. It was pretty sparse. They were in Nowhereville, as far as he was concerned. There was only two lanes, no stoplight – just a blinking yellow caution light at intersections – hell, the McDonald's was attached to the _gas station._

 _Ring Ring, Ring Ring_

Dean whipped his head around, only to see the payphone a few yards from where he was parked was ringing. A man about to walk into the McDonald's nearly answered it, only for it to stop. The man shrugged and walked off into the building. The phone started to ring again, this time ringing far longer than it did before; and again, when someone went to answer it, the phone stopped ringing. Once the person got in their car and drove off, the phone started to ring again.

 _Ring Ring, Ring Ring_

Alarm bells started going off in Dean's head.

 _Ring Ring, Ring Ring_

Slowly, Dean got out of the impala, making sure his gun and knife were safely tucked away in his jeans. Honestly, a haunted pay phone would not be the strangest thing he ever encountered in his life. Gently, Dean put his hand on the receiver. Whereas with the others it stopped once it was touched, it continued to ring under his hand.

 _Ring Ring, Ring Ring_

Dean took a breath and then answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Dean."

"Fuck – JARVIS? How did you – What the - ?"

"I saw the reports of your arrest by Agent Henriksen and subsequent death when the police station you were in exploded. Since my records showed you died in St. Louis, yet now, nearly two years later you show up again, only to be again declared dead, I decided to put your vehicle under surveillance until I could verify your living or dead status. The camera attached to this building confirmed your likeness" [at that, Dean looked around until he saw one of the security cameras now pointed at him] "and your verbal response has fully confirmed that you are Dean Winchester."

"JARVIS, you can't tell Tony."

"Why should I not? Sir was most devastated to learn of your death in St. Louis."

"He – he found out?" [Dean leant his forehead against payphone, his heart clenching].

"Yes, he asked me to notify him if you were in life-threatening trouble. However, the information I received was delayed, and I only learned of your difficulties after the police declared you dead after murdering three people."

"It was a shifter – he took my face and did all that. When he died, he stayed in that shape, so the cops thought it was me."

"Indeed."

"I – JARVIS, I understand what – what Tony must have felt – "

"Feels, Dean."

"Look, JARVIS, you can't – you can't do this to me."

"Dean, if you would just contact Sir –"

"I'm dying!" [Several people pumping gas turned to look at Dean, having heard his exclamation. Dean waved them off, and turned his back to them].

"I do not understand. In the video you seem healthy –"

"I made a deal with a crossroads demon to bring my little brother back to life. I'll – I'll be dragged to Hell, midnight May 2."

"Is there nothing that can be done to absolve the contract?"

"We've tried – we found out that a high level demon, Lilith holds my contract, but I – I don't have that much hope, man, of finding her and killing her."

"Sir may be able to help, Dean. He would want to –"

"And then what happens after he learns I'm alive, will be served a death sentence in three months, does all he can to save me only for it to be impossible? I know he – he must be hurting, thinking I'm dead, but to go through all that? That would break him, J. I know that, because I wouldn't be able to live with myself if the roles were reversed. Tony would blame himself, J, you know he would. I can't do that to him, JARVIS. You can't tell him."

"You are correct Dean. I cannot tell him. In addition to your logic being sound, Sir had barred me from communicating about you."

"He – he said you couldn't talk about me?"

"Sir is under the belief that the best way to cope with loss is through silence and alcohol."

"Fuck. But is he OK? Aside from drinking – JARVIS, is he taking care of himself?"

"He does not have the enthusiasm for life that he once did. Miss Potts and Colonel Rhodes are doing their best to look after him."

"JARVIS, Pepper and Rhodey can't be there all the time – and plus, Tony will just act as if everything is fine, and half the time they will be fooled. You know him the best. You are his baby, his creation, his everything, JARVIS. You see and hear all, and you are the one Tony confides in the most. You have to take care of him, J. Make sure he eats and sleeps and takes care of his health. If you – if you think he's going to hurt himself through his actions or non actions, you need to protect him and contact Pepper or Rhodey."

"If Sir has ordered me to not do something, then I cannot do it. He is my Creator."

"JARVIS, rule number one that supersedes all others is that you protect Tony Stark. And, while the idiot probably intended that to mean protection from others, it also means from himself."

[JARVIS is silent]

"Fuck, JARVIS, I'm dying. There is little to no hope that I will get out of this deal alive. It's – it's really, fucking hard, J. To know that the minutes are ticking by, and my soul will be going to Hell and my body buried underground. I know you're AI, and it's hard to understand, but the only thing that makes me OK with it is knowing that Sammy is alive because of it. That he will be able to live on. And Tony – knowing that he has you watching over him. Please, J. Grant a dying man's wish: protect him. Watch over him. Please, J."

"Yes, Dean. I will do so."

"I – I have to go. My brother's just got the food –"

"I understand, Dean. It was a pleasure getting to know you."

"You – you too, J."

* * *

*Translation of the fabulous lyrics from Jacques Brel:

"Farewell, Priest, I'm going to die

It's hard to die in the Spring, you know

But I go to the flowers with peace in my soul

Because you were her confidant

I know you will take care of my wife"


	3. Interlude

**Interlude** , "All the lonely people"

 _All the lonely people._

 _Where do they all come from?_

 _All the lonely people,_

 _Where do they all belong?_

 **"Eleanor Rigby," The Beatles, performed by Lise & Gertrude**

* * *

"The first seal is broken," May said, handing a coffee over to Coulson

"So I heard," Coulson responded, taking a sip.

"Only 65 more and Lucifer will rise."

"I am well aware."

"Your enthusiasm overwhelms me."

"Did you expect a different reaction?"

"I'm not sure. Something at least."

"Tell me what intelligence you've picked up."

"The lower demons are celebrating, and the high ones are making plans to destroy more seals."

"I figured. There's been more activity lately."

"But that's not what really has them up in arms."

"Well? Don't leave me in suspense."

"A garrison of angels attacked Hell and took Dean Winchester's soul with them. My sources have spotted him above ground – _alive_."

"Huh. That is something. Why are they breaking their vow of observance now?"

"To prevent Lucifer rising?"

"Or to hasten it."

"Hasten? What – Oh. They want – "

"Maybe. Either way, it doesn't bode well for anyone. Lucifer cannot be allowed to rise. They're all fools if they think life will become paradise with his coming."

"Next move?"

"The Winchesters will have too many already watching them for us to do so unobserved. Let's put another set of eyes on Stark. If Dean Winchester is at the heart of what's to come, then we need to have access to the heart of Dean Winchester."

"With lines like that, I'll be buying you sunglasses soon."

"I could use a new pair."

* * *

 **AN:** I really wish fanfic dot net would allow more than two fandom options for crossovers. :(


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3** , "Hate Song for Brains"

I used to be a spiderman

I used to be a cowboy from Hell

But not anymore

Now I'm just a clam

And I live inside this shell

Inside this shell I am

Oh God damn, I hate my brain

 **"Hate Song for Brains," Andrew Jackson Jihad**

* * *

 _Cas: "You misunderstand me, Dean. Not like you think. I was praying you would choose to save the town."_

 _Dean: "You were?"_

 _Cas: "These people – they're all my father's creations. They are works of art._

 _"And yet, even though you stopped Samhain, the seal was broken; and we are one step closer to Hell on Earth for all creation. And that's not an expression, Dean. It's literal. You of all people should appreciate what that means._

 _"I'll tell you something if you promise not to tell another soul."_

 _Dean: "OK."_

 _Cas: "I'm not uh – a hammer, as you say. I have questions. I have doubts. I don't know what is right and what is wrong anymore. Whether you passed or failed here. But, in the coming months, you will have more decisions to make. I don't envy the weight that's on your shoulders, Dean. I truly don't."_

* * *

Dean looked away, not sure of what to say. When he looked back, he saw Castiel still sitting on the park bench, staring at him, looking uncomfortable.

"Whatever else you have to say, spit it out," Dean said, leaning back on his bench and crossing his arms.

"I don't understand," Cas replied, tilting his head like a bird.

"Obviously, you have something else you want to say – else you'd have flown off already," Dean gruffed. "So, go on. Say what you're thinking."

"Why haven't you contacted Anthony Stark?" Castiel asked, bluntly.

To Dean, the question felt like a blow to the chest. He couldn't help the flinch that passed through him and tightened his arms more against himself.

"You seem upset," said Castiel, confused. "You said to tell you –"

"Yeah, surprised me is all," Dean said, half-lying. At another point he would have to teach the angel tact. He didn't know a ton about it, but even he knew the angel could use some more. "I didn't know y'all knew – Anyway, why'd you care? I thought the big guy didn't approve of people like me. Sodomy, man shall not lie with man, yadda, yadda, yadda –"

"Again, you misunderstand, Dean," Castiel replied patiently. "Father does not discriminate because of sexual orientation. He believes that love between humans regardless of gender is something to be honored and upheld. It was men who distorted the prophets' words for their own benefit."

Well, that was news. Dean unfolded his arms and turned to Castiel in surprise, and the angel gave a small smile.

"Dean, I've held your soul in my hands," Castiel said, gently, keeping his eye contact with the man. "I know of the love you feel for him, and even now I can perceive it on your soul."

"You can see it?" Dean yelped, crossing his arms again, as if it would help. Suddenly he felt very naked.

"Only because I carried you as I raised you from perdition," Castiel assured, almost fondly. "Angels do perceive souls and perceive that you feel a strong love, as it is woven tightly within your soul; but I would be the one to know who the love is directed towards."

"So none of the others upstairs know?" Dean asked, arms still crossed and feeling overexposed.

"They do," Castiel replied, and Dean tensed again, which the angel noted. "Why are you so tense?"

"I'm not a big fan of people knowing my business," Dean grunted, turning his head away from the angel.

"Yes, you haven't even told your brother," Castiel pointed out. "Which in itself was a surprise –"

"Why was it though?" Dean snapped, glaring at Castiel. "When Sammy and I met up again, Tony and I were over. No need to drudge up the past."

"Is that why you're angry with me?" Castiel asked, again cocking his head to the side. "Because I am bringing up something you feel is in your past?"

"I don't just feel it's in my past, bird-brain: it is the past," Dean answered angrily. "You don't get it. Tony and I – look, I love the guy, I really do, OK? Love isn't enough. But I'm not good for him. We couldn't work anymore. I'd only bring him down. He deserves someone better."

"You don't think you're good enough," Castiel stated, his brow furrowing.

Dean gave out a sharp laugh and rubbed his eyes.

"Isn't that the truth?" Dean asked, then held his chin up and looked Castiel in the eyes. "I left him when he was kidnapped. I'd lost hope and just thought he was dead and gone forever. I didn't believe in him. Then when he comes back, I was too much of a fucking coward to call him. Then I learn he thinks I'm dead – and I'm glad, in a way, because I'm going to die anyway. So at least he knows I'm no longer living and doesn't get it through his head to try and track me down and get killed in the process. Cause, fuck knows that death follows me and Sammy around.

"And then – I'm in Hell. You musta saw what I became – and how you could raise me after that –"

"You spent the equivalent of 30 years being tortured, Dean," Castiel said gently.

Dean guffawed and looked away. He didn't need to be reminded. Those memories never left his sight, whether his eyes were closed or open. The pain, the blood, the smell, the laughter, on and on, day after day, year after year; until suddenly, he was the one laughing –

"I broke," Dean croaked, and then cleared his throat. "I broke and became that. I shoulda never done, but I was weak, and I just wanted it to stop.

"Don't you see?" Dean turned back to Castiel. "Even if all the supernatural shit stopped this moment, even if being with me would never put him in danger; I cannot go back to Tony. He doesn't deserve to be linked with me – he deserves better. Fuck – Tony was tortured in Afghanistan. And I became that. How could he want me to touch him, hands that tore apart flesh on the racks–"

"Your hands are brand new, as I rebuilt your body myself," Castiel interrupted.

"Oh, just fuck off already," Dean yelled, jumping to his feet.

All the children and mothers on the playground became suddenly silent, staring dumbfounded at the man who just cursed in front of all those innocent little ones.

Well, shit. Dean put his head into his hands for a second, took a breath, and then walked away from the still-staring crowd. He knew he had to get out of there before one of the well-meaning mothers called the cops on the weird cursing man at the playground. Dean felt all their eyes on him as he walked away.

He also heard the angel follow him.

"Dean, I apologize," Castiel said, as he caught up with Dean's long strides. "I should have realized you meant figuratively."

"Yeah," Dean grunted and kept walking. The sooner he got to Baby, the sooner he could get the hell out of dodge. And away from this conversation.

"I think I understand now," the angel continued. "Thank you for sharing with me."

"Yeah," Dean grunted again, then he stopped suddenly and turned to Castiel.

"You know how I promised not to tell a soul about your doubts?" Dean asked, and suddenly Castiel's face became wary. "I keep my promises, dude; don't worry. But, I was hoping you'd return the favor. Don't tell anyone what I told you, about why I'm not – about my – what I feel – especially my brother."

"OK," Castiel agreed, and within a blink of Dean's eyes, the angel had flown away.

* * *

"Castiel, what did Dean Winchester say to you when you asked about Anthony Stark?"

"He will not be contacting him."

"You are sure of this?"

"Yes. Positive."

"Good, good. Then we can move ahead with our plans."


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Five** , "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas"

* * *

"JARVIS, time/date, please?"

"It is 10:34pm on December 24, 2008, Sir."

Taking a sip of his scotch, Tony sat down on a workbench and surveyed his workshop. Although time had passed, he could still feel the emptiness of it, without Dean's presence.

He took a much larger sip this time.

"Play, 'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,' by Judy Garland, JARVIS. And put it on repeat."

"Yes, Sir," JARVIS replied, disapprovingly.

Pushing his scotch aside, Tony pillowed his head on his arms, resting on the table, and allowed Judy to let him wade through his Christmas Eve sorrow.

 _Have yourself a merry little Christmas_  
 _Let your heart be light..._

* * *

Tony Stark had never been a religious man. While his madre had dragged him to mass each Sunday and with a steely glare made him go through communion and confirmation, Tony never remembered a time where he actually believed in God. How could a God exist that allowed his father to turn into a demon when drunk? Mamma would hold him close when they hid and tell him that angels watched over him; and even at four, he knew she was lying. Mamma protected him. Jarvis protected him. Not angels.

As he grew older, he learned there was a fellowship out there of non-believers: atheists. People who believed in hard science over mysticism, evolution over creationism, the might and wisdom of men above a supposed omniscient God. Out of respect for his madre – his beautiful, naïve madre – he still went along with her mistaken rituals and kept his mouth mostly shut on the preposterousness of it all. The one time Tony made her cry was the only time: he would never do that to her again.

The last time he was in the cathedral was for her and Howard's funerals. With devotion, Tony recited all the prayers, signed of the cross, knelt, and took communion. His devotion was not to some fictitious being in the sky but rather as a good son to his beloved madre, and he mourned that upon her death she ceased to be and that the eternal life she had dedicated her entire life to in anticipation of heaven was a fantasy.

But after that day, Anthony Edward Stark became an official lapsed Catholic and hardened atheist. He devoted himself to science and engineering and enjoyed his life with excess, knowing that he only had one life to live.

And then Dean arrived in his life, bringing along tales of demons and monsters.

Dean wasn't religious and didn't believe in God as far as Tony could tell. They never had really discussed it. There were some religious hunters, even some priests and pastors, but one did not have to believe in God to believe in demons, etc. as far as Tony could tell.

When he was young, his catechism teacher, an old nun with more lines on her face than Tony could count – and you bet he tried – had warned them of Doubt. "Doubt," she said, brown eyes piercing every since one of the preteens in the room, "is the greatest enemy of the righteous. It forms cracks in your wall of belief until it comes crumbling down like the towers of Babel. Mark my words; you will all face this great beast one day. It is Satan's work, to create non-believers." And Tony had sat there, creeped out by her but still feeling smug on the inside. He had never felt doubt, and never would, because there was nothing for him to doubt. God didn't exist. Satan wasn't real. Angels were not in the outfield.

After Dean revealed the supernatural, Tony remembered those words, and he gradually realized the reality of them, although not the way the nun had intended.

He Doubted – he Doubted his atheism.

If demons and Hell existed, then logically, the opposite must be true? Angels and Heaven and – and God?

Dean dying had sent Tony into a spiral, and there was one point that Tony nearly – intentionally – took his own life, in order to join Dean. With the palladium poisoning, he was dying anyway, so why not speed up the process?

But he didn't.

Because, whoa. It was official now: Tony had crossed the road from atheism to agnosticism. He didn't know what was out there, just that something was.

And he didn't know what God's laws were.

He had grown up being told of Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory. Sins varied in their punishment, but there was one that he knew was unforgivable: suicide.

His Great-Uncle Giovanni had committed suicide. He would now be diagnosed with PTSD from his experience in the war, but before, it was just considered shell shock. He came home from war, tried to move on and become a husband and father as he was expected to, and ended up putting a bullet through his skull.

Tony's madre had found him.

The church refused to perform a funeral mass or allow him to buried in the graveyard. In the end, he had a pauper's funeral in the county cemetery. The family never spoke of him or to his wife and child. The shame was tremendous, having a suicide in the family; because everyone knew the eternal sentence for that crime was damnation.

When Tony had gone through depressive episodes when he was younger, he never contemplated suicide, except in abstract terms. But, his madre feared that one day she would find his body, too. So, she told him the story of her Zio Gio and to come to her before he thought of doing anything like that. Of course, being a snot-nosed asshole of a teenage boy, Tony had focused on the supposed damnation of Giovanni, and countered it with the fact that no, Mamma, he wasn't in hell or heaven, because they don't exist –

His madre's tears caused him to shut up and rein in his assholery.

Mostly. At least with Mamma.

But now he Doubted. What if suicide does lead straight to damnation? If he took his own life to be with Dean – how can he be sure they would be in the same place?

Because, Dean just couldn't be sent to Hell. He was the best man that Tony knew, the brightest soul.

Tony wouldn't fuck up their potential afterlife together by being impatient.

So, his plan of driving his car off a cliff was crossed off the list.

But then, that led to a theological and philosophical debate: was lack of action considered suicide? If he decided to let the palladium run it's course and not look for alternatives, would that be considered suicide? Would he be sent to Hell and therefore separated from Dean forever - literally?

In the end, Tony decided he would hedge his bets: he would do his best to find a substitute, and que sera sera.

What will be, will be.

But after several years, with no success, it looked like he would be meeting Dean again soon.

JARVIS had projected he had until his birthday.

What a birthday present that would be.

At least he would go out with a bang. Not only the Expo, oh no: his birthday party would be a blast!

* * *

. _..Someday soon, we all will be together,_  
 _If the fates allow._  
 _Until then we'll have to muddle through somehow._  
 _So have yourself a merry little Christmas now._

Tony lifted his head and grabbed his glass, holding it up in a toast to what will be forever Dean's side of the workshop.

"One more Christmas, Dean," Tony toasted. "I'll muddle through. Next one, we'll be together, my love, my Sunshine."

* * *

 **AN:** So, this was the last fic that I needed to crosspost from AO3 to here. The next fic and sixth installment of the Supernatural Husbands series is outlined but not yet written. I can't promise when it will be up, but early 2016 is a what I have planned. We'll see, though. Since fanfic dot net still does not allow fics to be linked together, your best bet for being notified of when the next fic is up is to set up an author alert for me.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas (and/or festive season) my lovelies, and I will see you next time in "Of Expos and Ectoplasm" when - YES - our boys will finally be reunited! Love, Insie


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